


droit de seigneur

by bmouse



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Comedy Has Been Attempted, Consensual, Endgame is MidoTaka though, First Time Blow Jobs, Hints of AkaFuri, Humor, I Can't Believe I Wrote This, Intercrural Sex, M/M, Porn with Feelings, Rare Pairings, Sexual Humor, Started Out As Crack And Became Not-Crack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-19
Updated: 2017-09-19
Packaged: 2018-12-31 13:11:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12133209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bmouse/pseuds/bmouse
Summary: The saner part of Takao's brain, the one that Shin-chan would cutely insist that he’d had removed at birth in a freak act of medical malpractice, whispered: "Hey man, I know you’ve got this ‘try anything once’ vibe, but this is really pushing it."





	droit de seigneur

**Author's Note:**

> Let’s just say I felt very clever coming up with the title. Google it for a laugh.
> 
> Basically, one day on a long drive across 3 states my friend looked at me and said 'So how would you make Akashi/Takao happen? But like, in a fun, crack-ish, non-angsty way?'
> 
> This is all her fault.

_What the ever-loving fuck am I doing here?_ Takao thought as he stared up at the large, fancy-font sign that said: “Teiko Middle School.” 

It was looking a little worn down these days. Whimsically, he wondered if he flagged down a random person on the street if they would even have any idea about what once happened here. It was like the Miracles leaving had taken some kind of ageless glory away from this place and now it was just an ordinary set of buildings, sagging gently, gathering dust in its cracks. 

He shook his head. Geez, it was surprising he still had any fanboying left in him. He’d fought Miracles all year and held his head high. Mostly. Even then. Fucking Akashi could send him sprawling with that ankle breaker but he couldn’t make him bow. Even as he’d been crying he’d kept his chin up.

And now apparently that same fucking Akashi wanted to meet him here for a late-night chat.

As he doubled back around the main building, looking for the special basketball auxiliary gym(the Teiko basketball club had Their Own Gym. Unreal. Goddamn rich people), he couldn’t help but notice that some of his _je ne sais quois_ , his habitual swagger, had also deflated a little. Like one of his legs wanted to keep going and the other one wanted to sprint for the hills. 

The saner part of his brain, the one that Shin-chan would cutely insist he’d had removed at birth in a freak act of medical malpractice, whispered: _Hey man, I know you’ve got this ‘try anything once’ vibe to your rep, but this is really pushing it._

_Pssshaw,_ Takao told it, _we’ve been in worse scrapes than this!_

_You’re meeting a dangerous guy, alone, in an out-of-sight place. This is like the first five minutes of a crime show and you know it._

Takao thought this over.

_Ok, admittedly a medium-heavy ‘Future Notorious Serial Killers of Japan’ vibe aside, he’s still just a teenager. We’re the same age and I’ve got 3cm and 3kg on his tiny tyrant ass. Chill._

Though speaking of worst-case scenarios for one Takao Kazunari and one Akashi Seijuurou - alone in a large deserted gymnasium, even the worst one he could think of didn’t seem so bad. If the Goddess of Fate saw fit to hand him a gift-wrapped chance for a knock-down drag-out fistfight with that prissy, controlling, calling-Shin-chan-by-his-first-name-like-he-had-the-right, devil-eyed rich boy, well...Takao would blow her a kiss. And maybe even start paying more attention to his horoscope.

So what if he might lose a pound of flesh or a non-essential finger or something? While the Generation of Got-Their-Ass-Freshly-Kicked-By-Kuroko-Tetsuya seemed to have this tentative truce now, Takao remembered all too well how back in the WC finals that little red bastard had taken Shin-chan’s brief, fragile smile away. Kicking his ass would be worth it.

But, so far, all their texting had been, kinda... tame? Civil? Bizarrely cordial? Aside from the mysterious (and super creepy!) way that Akashi had somehow gotten his number.

Takao flipped said cell phone out of his back pocket, making it dance along his knuckles and checked the last text.

*The back gate is unlocked. I am expecting you in the old club gym*

That sounded sane, right? A little _‘Come hither, Peasant’_ but mostly sane.

He’d still showed up fifteen minutes early. Hey, scouting was kinda his whole thing - it never hurt to scope out the field of battle beforehand. And lo and behold there it was - the right gym, the slightly cracked door. Takao eased it open and smoothly ducked inside.

The gym itself was cavernous, huge, the vast ribs of the building disappearing from view somewhere above. The floor was clean and looked recently swept, but his ever-ready eyes tracked the odd sparkly dust mote falling gently from the unseen ceiling. The whole thing was unreal. Like he was in an artsy indie flick or a cutscene from a videogame.

Yeah like an _‘Introducing… the Final Boss’_ cutscene snidely whispered the recently-overruled common sense part of his brain.. 

_Yeeeeah I may not have leveled up enough for this._ Takao thought _Oh well!_

So far it looked like he was alone, but Takao felt the circumstances deserved a healthy uptick of paranoia so he gave the whole thing another pass with his eyes, really concentrating.

Akashi was standing in the shadows under the basket. He was still, with the stillness of a dangerous thing at the zoo that was about to leap. 99% chance that it was deliberate - the Hawk Eye always did work better with things in motion.

Takao most definitely did not jump up to dunk-distance and shriek like every fiber of his body wanted. Which was aces, because that would have totally set the wrong tone. Whatever His Deranged Imperial Haughtiness _was_ expecting to get out of this encounter? Yeeeeah, Takao wasn’t going to do that. 

"Oh hey, ‘sup!" he said, all casual, holding a hand up like he would for an acquaintance-level classmate.

"Good evening, Kauzunari." 

Oho, so it was the first-name-basis delusions-of-grandeur asshat Akashi. Great. No, really. He meant that. Frankly Takao didn’t know what to do with the polite and gentle-voiced all-red-eyes version.

Yeah he’d kept his ear tuned to the grapevine so he’s more-or-less got the cliff-notes on the whole ‘Two Akashis’ thing. Apparently he’d had some kind of mental breakdown/breakthrough over losing to Kuroko for the first time (Though OK, how did that work? Seriously at what age do you have to start counting? Had little Akashi in kindergarten never lost at musical chairs or something? Like, no. No way. That was Ridiculous. All the Miracles were capital R Ridiculous but the little red bastard got the cherry on the cake), but all that did was fix the Red-eye Akashi to Yellow-eye Akashi switch in his brain and now he could go back and forth at will.

Still, just because the more extreme personality had the driver’s seat now didn’t mean a guy couldn’t try and set some boundaries.

"That's a little familiar of you, ain’t it?~" 

“Oh, I have an inkling that we are all about to become _much_ more familiar.”

“Yikes, and now we’re on to ‘ominous.’ That quick, huh? Then again I bet you can’t help it. So...” Takao tucked his hands into his pockets “What did ya wanna chat about?”

“Very well, I’ll proceed to the point: your interest in Shintarou is transparent.”

“Pfff just not to him, apparently.” 

Well that just slipped out didn’t it. But, fuck-it, Takao wasn’t going to deny it, and if he was going to be honest he _was_ a little gratified by the split-second flicker of jealousy on Akashi’s face. "Anyway did anyone tell you that you're the overprotective mom-friend? Shin-chan’s a big boy now, he can pick who he plays with in the sandbox." 

"Still, it has been something long-overdue for me to address. Shintarou is… surprisingly fragile in his interpersonal relationships. He’s not an appropriate target for idle flirtation. Do you truly think you can bring him happiness? Are you truly committed to your course of action, even though homosexual relationships are still disparaged by society?”

“Listen man, I’ve been pining after my adorably clueless Ace-sama for _months_ and you think I’ll have some kind of gay panic when I see his dick?”

Damn, no reaction. He’d been hoping for a fussy little moue of disapproval at the word ‘dick,’ at _least_ , but apparently Akashi #2 was made of pretty stern stuff. Or maybe the Rakuzan dorms were a way wilder place than advertized. 

Besides, it made for a great line but Takao may have actually kinda sorta seen _the goods_ already.

Look, haha, no pun intended, of course he’d _looked_. Try sharing a set of showers and old-fashioned communal training camp bathing rooms with your big gay crush. And with a 19cm height difference there were certain… realities. So basically he’s prepared to love Shin-chan in his entirety - prickly temperament, ridiculously proportional equipment and all.

Speaking of height difference, Yosen's Himuro Tatsuya seemed like a decent guy when he wasn’t flawless-ice-princess-ing you on the court. In the future Takao figures he should probably ring him up to see if he could get the Cliff Notes on ‘Taking _All That_ and Not Dying.’ Not that he’s planning to let Shin-chan top for a while, but you know, _eventually_. Once Takao’s broken him in a bit. He’s a fair guy like that.

Some pretty damn lurid fantasies and a minor river of drool were rudely interrupted by Shin-chan actually not dating him yet and Akashi _still being there._

“That’s a bold statement for someone completely lacking in any relevant experience. I will not have Shintarou subjected to crude fumbling from an amateur.”

Now here was a slight problem. Because except for rare cases like “Will Kuroko Tetsuya come back even stronger and soundly kick my ass if I write him off and also make the score against his childhood friend's team 111-11?" Akashi was... usually right, damn him.

So, memory lane time: In middle school, like pretty much every baby bi on the planet( before he realized he had other options) - Takao had a crush on this girl. A girl with glasses and glossy hair in a hime-cut, who had her school uniform done in a long and modest style (yeah, yeah, laugh it up, he had a type) and when they'd kissed for the first time under a willow tree she had turned her little chin up at him and said "Seriously, picking a popular guy like you for my first kiss... The whole idea was that you'd have some experience! I'm really disappointed Takao-kun! '' 

Aaaand that had been that. First Romance: OVER. Ego: FUBAR. Confidence: DOA. 

He'd wanted to find a terrifically scenic bridge and jump right the heck off. But then he’d gone home and moped and cried a bit and then he had a snack and then he played some NBA Jamz 4 on his console, and by breakfast of the morning after Takao had decided that he was going to live after all. 

Out of pure contrariness. 

Then, in the spirit of ‘living-well-is-the-best-revenge’ he’d flirted with every _other_ girl in the class and had consequently gotten more than his fair share of kissing experience. 

Now that Takao’s thoughts had circled back around to that incident he had to ask himself: Does True Love really have a patch on high school awkwardness? 

If he got Shin-chan into bed and neither of them knew what they were doing and it was all chipped teeth and knee-in-the-gut fumbling and awkward dry handjobs with a sprinkle of sexuality-panic? Would that put a grave-marker on the whole thing before it even began?

‘Cause whenever he saw that girl( unfortunately, she still lived down the street) he still couldn’t look at her properly.

The thing with Shin-chan, well... he called it ridiculous and a Big Cosmic Joke Of The Universe but somewhere, under about ten layers of humor-as-a-defense-mechanism, it was just So Important and more than anything else Takao didn’t want to fuck it up.

“OK, you may have a point. I admit - I’ve got big plans and no functional experience. Which kiiiinda usually spells ‘disaster.’“

“I’m glad you agree. In fact, I have come here to help you overcome your obstacle.”

Takao’s entire face froze.

“Ummmm. Say _what_ now?” 

“It’s a simple, mutually beneficial proposal. A ‘trial run’ so to speak. Experience for experience.”

“With _who_?“ Takao had a terrifying thought that Akashi was here pimping out his sad Sixth Man substitute guy to all and sundry. Which, uuuuuuhh - no. He’d met sexier freshly-dead fish. 

“Myself, of course.” 

Oh. Okay. _What?_ And now, louder, for the people in the back: WHAT??! Oh that was worse. That was a small _infinity_ of worse. Whole sectors of Takao's brain were going _‘divide by zero error: please re-install reality and try again.’_ Luckily his mouth ran on its own separate processor.

“Holy shit! You’re... seriously? Dude, I have to level here - I don’t even like you all that much.”

“The circumstances of our introduction were less than ideal. I can hardly blame you. And warm personal feelings, as far as I can tell, have never been a prerequisite for a one-night engagement.”

“Oookay, I mean, you’re right about the feelings thing. And I sort of get why I’d want to. Why would _you_ want to?” Having just re-booted his brain was really moving, synapses firing like one of Kuroko’s passes across the court. Wait. It couldn’t be. “Unless… you’ve got the same problem huh? Am I right?”

“Just so.” said Akashi Seijuurou, blithely failing the Teenage Guy Turing Test by admitting that he was a virgin without so much as blinking. “In essence you, Kazunari, will also be a sort of ‘practice match’ for me. The fact of the matter is: someone has captured my attention and I refuse to approach them without a degree of preparation. And for what it’s worth I find you reasonably sexually attractive. Your connection to Shintarou and your famed flexibility about unconventional circumstances made you an ideal... target.”

_Oh my god,_ who _?_ Takao wondered. _Who does your crazy ass have their slitted yellow sights on? What poor bastard should I warn immediately so that they can call NASA and seek anti-Akashi asylum on the fucking ISS?_

And why, oh why, was the word ‘target’ outlined in Akashi’s prim little mouth suddenly so hot. I mean that ‘overcompensating short guy who spends a lot of time on his abs’ vibe aside ( _dude, you have zero room to talk_ , chirped Takao’s brain) Akashi was usually firmly in the ‘physical hotness discounted on account of awful personality’ column. And here he was suddenly coming on heavy with this Bond-villain-esque charm. 

Though OK, it was probably because he’d just offered him no-strings-attached sexual favors. Takao could have sworn he read a BL manga like this once.

“I believe we should limit ourselves to hands and fellatio, that should be enough to serve our purpose.” Akashi went on matter-of-factly as Takao’s terrible brain (also featuring: his year-long backlog of sexual frustration) got busy rationalizing.

Now Takao Kazunari was a guy who kept himself reasonably open to all the grand things Life had to offer. It was right there in his motto. There was really only one thing a guy who regularly proclaimed ‘~Those who enjoy life are winners!~’ could possibly say to his legit fucking nemesis offering to blow him on an empty basketball court in the middle of the night.

“You know what? Sure. Yeah. OK.”

“Then we’re agreed.”

They shook hands solemnly like two gangsters in an American movie. Akashi’s hand was dry and a little cold. Takao wanted to pinch himself until he woke up. He wanted to roll on the floor laughing until he puked. 

There was then, of course, the pretty-darn-crucial question of who would ‘go’ first, so to speak. Luckily Takao had one sure-fire method. Akashi seemed a little bemused at his suggestion, like nobody had ever invited him to play janken for ‘first turn at doing something stupid’ like a normal kid. Wait, that was kind of a self-answering question.

Now Takao was usually a steadfast devotee of ‘paper.’ Nobody expected ‘paper’ right off the bat. But then he looked at Akashi’s little eyebrow-furrow of supreme concentration and thought ‘waaaait, is he gonna pick scissors? You know? Cause’ of the ‘nearly-stabbing Seirin’s Bakagami with the scissors’ incident? He seems to like them?’

So, at the last minute, he changed the hand-sign to ‘rock.’

Akashi did not pick ‘scissors.’ 

_Goddamn_. He really had no luck at janken. Next time Shin-chan wanted a ride to some faraway antique store for his Item they were flipping a coin. 

“Aw shit. Well you better not chicken out when it’s your turn.”

“I assure you, my word is my bond.” Akashi was smirking, damn him.

At some point between sweeping up the gym floor and propositioning him, Akashi had taken a heavy wooden chair out of the storage room and put it against the basket. 

Now he sat down in it and motioned Takao closer.

Oh right - a throne, the supplicant kneeling before the throne. The guy suuure was dedicated to his aesthetic. And to be fair, as the AV’s suggested, it was logistically difficult to blow someone while you were both standing up. 

Shrugging, Takao knelt down in front of the ridiculous chair and its ridiculous occupant. He wasn’t quite adventurous enough to roll his eyes outright but he sure was rolling them in his mind. _Oh well, it’s going to be my turn soon._ ‘He who laughs last’ and all that.

Feeling a slight pinch in his knees and a liiiitle meanness in his heart - for his opening number Taako smoothed his hands down Akashi’s expensive slacks, rolled down his grey silk polo socks, and put his bare peasant hands on his small mightiness’ pale, sculpted ankles. Above him Akashi took a long drawn-in breath and couldn't quite disguise the shudder in it. 

Oh. Ohohoooo. Wow, that's... _Wow_. Ankles, really? Ankles? That was so...last century? Super feeb? Weirdly kind of cute? I mean as far as hot-spots went. _Good thing we're sworn to secrecy by this Awkward Enemy Blowjobs Pact because nobody in the World would_ ever _believe me._

"What _are_ you doing down there? I suggest you get on with it." 

“Yes, _Ojousama_ ~~”

And look, he was saying it ironically but the bulge in those tailored slacks got a bit more... _bulgy,_ if you could catch his drift. He was just finding out all kinds of new things today.

And man, oh man, wasn’t it hilarious? Here he was on his knees for the undisputed Satan of High School Basketball and he almost felt like he had the upper hand. Though OK, from the evil glint above it looked like that Eye of Akashi’s was calculating a dozen ways to break his insolent neck.

_I guess I’d better get on with it._

The tailored slacks had tiny buttons all along the fly, because of course Akashi Seijuurou-sama was too fucking good for a simple zipper, but it gave him time to sort of get used to the whole ‘my sworn enemy’s boner is in my face’ thing. Takao cupped the bulge in his hand tried to feel things out a bit. Not quite like touching a girl through her panties but definitely… interesting. Also OK, ostensibly his eyes were deferentially(ha!) lowered, but bless the Hawk Eye because he could see Akashi honest to god biting his lip. 

_Good for you man, get overwhelmed and turned on and human like the rest of us._

And of course he couldn’t help but push it. So he dithered - breathing warm air and grazing his nose against the tip of the tent, his fingers wandering to poke and prod at stupidly perfectly-muscled inner thighs.

"I believe you've missed the _point_ of this exercise." Was that voice a smidgen less controlled now?

"Oh no, I wouldn't dream of rushing~ If I was doing this to Shin-chan I'd want to do it with all the niceties. Haven't you watched AV's, Sei-chan? If they just start sucking away in the first minute it’s kind of boring don’tcha know.”

And to be perfectly frank, dear reader, he had another reason for dragging his feet. Look they were both guys here and, weeeell, teenage boys and hygiene...right? Like, how much would he be able to breathe through his nose? Because he’d probably have to.

But here Akashi's reality-bending powers really came to the fore. After God knows how long in a train or a private jet or however the hell he got to Tokyo, he was fresh as a daisy. A daisy discretely watered with a drop of expensive cologne. _Cripes._ Unless Akashi had come in early to sweep up the gym floor and creepily wait for him in the shadows _and_ take a shower. Though actually, that was probably right. He totally took a shower beforehand, the presumptive bastard! Before even texting him!

Takao felt a sudden deep kinship with booty-called girls from across the world. OK. “Emperor” or not, the boy had to pay.

Dicks were, by and large, a little stupid-looking. I mean, he was a guy, he could admit that, right? So as he was unwrapping the object in question(incredibly cliche silk-poly-blend boxers were involved) he was bracing himself for it but also kind of eager to find some sort of imperfection, some evidence of ordinary male weakness. A weird rightward curve? A strangely placed freckle or two? Lumpy foreskin? Untidy pubic hairs? Nope, Akashi didn't have much but what was there was neatly trimmed down into racing stripe shape.

They were the same size though, just about. Which made him feel better until he remembered the 3cm height difference. _'Really, you out to be smaller_ ' he thought crossly at Akashi's dick, which continued to be infuriatingly above average, aesthetically and otherwise, and turning redder by the minute.

Welp, here goes.

He licked it, root to tip. It twitched, nearly smacking him in the nose. _Now you see here, Mr. Little Tyrant. Behave._

It wouldn’t. 

Akashi may have been resting his fingers regally on both arms of the chair but his _other extremities_ were certainly energetic. Takao had splayed one hand firmly on his thigh to brace himself but his other hand was still curled around one of his nemesis’ naked ankles. Feeling it flex. 

Takao gave him another experimental lick (I mean, OKAY. It was almost anticlimactic, like licking someone’s forearm, except the skin was softer. The reactions were fuuuun though) and leaned back on his heels.

"Ooooo, Is the great Akashi-sama impatient now? Hmm? Testing your famous stamina am I?"

Now _that_ got him a hand in his hair, blunt manicured nails pressed threateningly behind his ear, the weight of it pushing him down.

"Now I'll be disappointed if you don't take your time thoroughly. _Kazunari_." 

Dammit he had a sexy snarl. All cultured and shit, with that same crisp upper-crust way of speaking as Shin-chan. It was seriously unfair. And Takao really had no better counterattack than to open his mouth, wet his lips in a fit of showmanship, and then slooowly wrap them around the head. A little high on his own daring he bobbed down and circled the crown with his tongue, probing the slit, tasting a very particular flavor.

_Huh, it’s salty._

But that was pretty normal, wasn’t it? He’d almost expected Akashi’s dick to taste unholy - brimstone and habaneros or something. But no, just skin and a growing slickness that was similar to what he tasted when he licked his own hand after helping himself along.

It was a little scary how easy this was, how quickly he caught a rhythm: _down_ , a broad lick to the shaft, a breath through his nose, a twist of the tongue around the head as he came back up. He got so into it he had to give Akashi’s ankle a parting squeeze and wrap his other hand loosely around the base to give himself a safety net so he wouldn’t go down too far and choke. I mean, he was sucking dick for the first time but there was no need to look _uncool_ about it.

Though pffff, Akashi would probably be way into it if he _did_ choke. 

Meanwhile Akashi, in his restrained way, showed every sign of enjoying himself. His hand loosened and tightened in Takao’s hair in a way that almost felt like awkward petting. He was breathing through his nose too, pretty damn unevenly, Takao was proud to note, and his knees had squeezed unconsciously around the sides of Takao’s body, keeping him in place. 

After a while he’d gotten pretty comfy with the basics to the point where he tried experimenting a little: more suction on the way up(which made a seriously _dirty_ sound, and made him feel… lbr a little whorish, but made Akashi’s hips lift ever-so-slightly), broader licks to the slit. Wrapping his hand more firmly around the base and squeezing just as the head was nudging the back of his mouth caused Akashi’s fingers spasm and literally pull him back upward by the hair.

"Hey, _what_? Was that bad? Did you not like that?" 

"No, I simply wanted to look at your face." 

Takao defiantly blew his now-messy bangs out of his face, tapped his finger against his cheek just under his eye. Just in case the little brat forgot who he was dealing with.

“Hey, gloat all you want. But I can see just as much, you know. You’re looking kind of red around the ears yourself~~” 

Akashi’s eyes narrowed. “I’m afraid that’s simply my haircolor.” 

Feeling like he was cheerfully skirting the edge of hell, Takao leaned his elbow fake-nonchalantly against his rival’s thigh, laid his cheek against his wet, twitching dick. 

“Oh, if it’s not doing _that_ much for you, you don’t mind if I take a break?” He maaay have spoken this while turning his face and moving his lips against said wet, twitching dick. “My tongue” _Lick_. “was” _lick “_ getting” _slowest, most thorough lick in the history of mankind_ “kinda tired, you know?”

"One d-day I-I'm going to,” there was the barely-there-est of choked _‘uhnn’_ noises that Takao wanted to put in a jar and take home. “ _break_ that _insouciant_ composure of yours." 

"Try it." he muttered, figuring he’d made his point and ducking his head back down. “I could do this allll night~” Though at that point-Takao had started nosing down at his balls so it lost something in the delivery. (Hey, apparently when you took out all the stops he was a liiittle bit of a slut? _Whatever_. This was way more interesting than a fistfight. )

To give him some credit, Akashi lasted. He lasted until his damn perfectly trimmed pubes were dark red with sweat and Takao’s jaw was threatening to cramp up and Takao’s lips were simultaneously slick and sobbing for chapstick. 

But in the end, he was just a guy. Just an awkward, virginal, emotionally disturbed basketball monomaniac. In the end, he gripped the arm of the chair until the wood creaked, curled over Takao’s head like a snail and came.

Takao swallowed, mostly on reflex. 

In his defense he hadn’t really followed the whole ‘nemesis blowjob’ thought to the logical conclusion of ‘Akashi Seijuurou’s hot come in my mouth.’ The proper etiquette thing would have probably been to spit it out, but after you’d swallowed the first bit it seemed dumb to quibble about the rest. Equally automatically, like getting the last drop of flavor out of a popsicle stick, his tongue did one last swipe around the head, which made Akashi arch up onto his toes and emit another excellently human sound. 

Nobody seemed to know what to do for the next couple seconds. 

In the end, Akashi made a sort of aborted move to stand-up. 

Which was sad as hell, even if it hadn’t been thwarted by his obvious jelly-legs. I mean, _come on_. Takao's Surprisingly Well-Executed(ha!) Blowjob Virginity was owed a little mindless sprawling. 

He swatted the other boy gently on the thigh, like: ‘Hey, get over yourself. Take a couple seconds. Sit back and enjoy!'

His rival's perfect body sagged just a bit further into the chair. Even Akashi’s yellow eye looked clouded over and a little lost. Just then the infamous Emperor looked downright vulnerable. 

So there it was - the proof he'd wanted. Takao almost wished he could un-see it.

Sex really was super-dangerous, just as advertised. Not just for STD's or whatever, but for how it made you feel all warm and floaty toward the person you were having it with. Even when you had definitive proof that they sometimes sucked as a human. Or maybe just sucked at _being_ human. At least from the awkward flurry of texting he'd seen out the corner of his eye on the GOM-only chat thread of Shin-chan's phone it seemed like Akashi was genuinely sorry for being an absolute dick these past two years and was trying to make _amends_ or something.

Still, maybe Takao ought to quit lowkey hating him while he was ahead. At least until the next tournament... Weirdly caught up in the quiet vibe of the moment, he gave up and laid his head down on his ex-ish sworn enemy’s still-twitching thigh. Whatever, his neck was sore and this position stretched the muscles out in a really nice way. 

Of course at this moment Takao Kazunari - Brave Hero of the Hour, was, sadly, hard as hell. Filled with a sudden awareness of his slightly abused knees and the persistent taste of come in his mouth, (he would bet it tasted better than average too. Maybe Akashi even _studied_ for this kind of thing and ate a can of pineapple beforehand, that fucking nerd), he figured all of that should have put a little of the rage out of his raging boner. 

But it didn’t. It really, really didn't. 

The strangest thing was how OK he felt about the whole thing, not even having had his own turn yet.

_Am I the kind of guy who gets off on the act itself?_ The evidence was pretty damn insistent. _So if Shin-chan’s too prim and proper to reciprocate at first I’ll still get something out of it... Score!_

At the thought of Shin-chan a fresh stab of lust rolled through his body. _I could do_ that _for him. If I play my cards right. Just like this, after school, when we stay behind to practice._ He’d kneel for Shin-chan in a heartbeat. He wouldn’t even complain about the hard locker room floor. 

_I don’t even mind if I choke._

Was it weird that here he was thinking about Shin-chan with another guy’s come in his mouth? Yeah probably. Or maybe it showed that their love was True and Pure or whatever. _Fuck_. He was so hard it almost hurt and then even that little edge of pain was sweet. _Dying_. He was seriously dying. His dick was going to explode.

"OK nevermind what I said,” and now his voice came out all rough. Geez, total AV territory. He patted Akashi’s knee in an absent way. “Seriously, break time's over, Your Highness. I'm kind of really in need over here and I'm not too into this whole chair thing - is there a couch in the clubroom?”

There was a couch in the clubroom. Akashi dragged him there by the hand, both of their knees wobbling for different reasons. 

_Man, and I’m not even on hand-holding privileges with Shin-chan.._. But again, this was the practice round anyway. Practicing holding-hands-with-a-guy was conceivably part of it. And Akashi had nice hands, calloused from basketball of course, but even his calluses were softer and more even, like he filed them down and used expensive hand cream.

By the time they got over to the aforementioned club room Akashi had obviously gotten over the bulk of the ‘oh, I just came’ stupidness and he practically jujitsu-rolled Takao over the arm of the couch onto his back in some kind of fiendish sexy version of his Ankle Breaker. Takao’s own brain wasn’t doing too good - all the blood was elsewhere, but he had just enough instinct to think _Whoa, Danger! Red Alert!_ and by then Akashi had already undone the first three buttons of his shirt.

“Wait, _wait_. _Why_ do I have to have my shirt off for this?”

“ _You_ took off my socks. Which was _completely needless_ by the way.”

Ok ok Akashi was probably a little sore about the ankle thing. And Takao didn’t have a good argument, against, exactly. The room was warm, and after months and months of trying to match Shin-chan on top of Shuutoku’s traditionally hellish training menu, he had nothing to be ashamed of. 

It was also kind of erotic, ngl: the leather against his naked back, someone’s hands moving down the front of his body. 

Having dispensed with the shirt Akashi moved on to unbuckle his belt, matter-of-factly pull down his zipper, and take him out of his underwear with a confidence that for a self-confessed virgin seriously hadto be masterful ‘faking-it-til-you-make-it.’ 

Then he stopped, just kind of staring at Takao’s dick with his big slitted eyes, seemingly at a loss for words. 

Bwahahaha, well wasn’t that flattering! Takao was feeling pretty damn swell at that point: he was lying down, finally free out of his tight jeans prison, about to get some action. It was no wonder his horrible tendency to want to lighten the mood on decided to kick in.

“Yep, there it is! Pretty much just how I left it! Pfff I mean,” he made a permissive sort of hand-wave “-feel free to look around…”

Akashi did just that. This time every touch was cautious, tentative, dare he even suggest it… shy? I mean, Takao kind of got it. He was dealing with a repressed rich boy from a super-conservative family, right? Akashi probably couldn’t even sneak a racy DVD into the house or the maids would rat him out. 

Maybe _this_ was what Akashi was really like? Vis-a-vis the sexy stuff? It was a lot more plausible than all the shady BDSM fantasies most of the guys in the league had (and would loudly deny having) about the Red Emperor of Rakuzan.

Except, alas, exactly one minute later Takao realized that he was totally 110% wrong.

Akashi wasn’t shy. The bastard was just being thorough - mapping out the terrain, planning his future course of attack.

“I’ll begin then.” He said primly, and sank to his knees. 

Takao barely had the chance to get a breath in before it was all rushing out of him in a strangled moan.

Akashi was ruthless. His nails dug possessively into Takao’s thighs, his mouth descended on him like a hot vise. It was like Takao’s cock was some sad, rebellious Roman province and Akashi was Cesar come to conquer and fuck shit up. 

And it was rough and a little awful, but also somehow _awesome_. At least until his brain stopped being in an endless loop of ‘oh God, oh God, someone’s mouth is actually down there’. Trouble was… usually when Takao was helping himself along he liked to start slow.

And now this whole 0-90 thing was a little too much. Writhing (he was fully prepared to admit to writing) with herculean effort he somehow got his suddenly-nerveless arm to tap Akashi on the shoulder.

Akashi raised his head. His narrow pupils were blown with adrenaline to the point where they could almost pass for normal. His stupidly fair skin showed everything, Takao could swear he could see individual capillaries in the surface of his cheeks.

“Hey! _Softer_ , a little softer, ‘kay? I’m a person, not a blowup doll.”

“Noted.” he muttered. Sulkily. Pouting, with his wet, red lips. Glaring at Takao’s dick like it was personally thwarting him. God, he was just _so ridiculous_. 

Clearly proving that he was _out of his goddamn mind_ right then, Takao reached out and petted the side of Akashi’s head in what he hoped was a soothing sort of way.

“Easy, _easy,_ don’t get all sore about it. Nobody’s expecting you to be an expert right off the bat, ya know? Relax a little!”

Miraculously, this did not lose him a hand. 

Instead Akashi only nodded in a determined manner and, ducking down, resumed inhaling Takao’s dick in a slightly more sedate and dignified fashion - lips tight, his warm tongue pressed up against the vein. 

Ahhhhh~ Ah God, _yeah_. _Fuck yeah_. That was it. Takao’s back arched. Leather creaked all around him. His toes were curling inside his shoes - the only things he was properly wearing at this point (yikes, his pants and boxers were around his _knees_ now). Akashi had managed to keep his clothes on for his turn. How had _he_ ended up pretty much naked? Whatever. It was all totally irrelevant. Everything except his ex-nemesis-still-rival’s hot, unpracticed mouth was irrelevant as hell. 

_God_. He had no idea it could feel that good, pleasure bubbling up inside him like a champagne fountain, ten times better than just his own hand in the rationed minutes between homework and bedtime. How the fuck had Akashi lasted through more than a minute of this? His eyes rolled skyward but even then he could still ‘see’ Akashi’s head moving in slow, merciless rhythm, could ‘see’ tendons flexing prettily in his neck, ‘see’ a little spit run out of the side of his mouth and down his chin.

Takao gave up and moaned. He let his mouth ramble: “Hell yeah, hell yeah”, “that’s great, you’re doing great~” So what if it gave the other guy the satisfaction? Satisfaction was the kinda the point anyway. Just as he was about to be a good guy and give Akashi some kind of warning, Akashi suddenly pulled up and off, ignoring Takao’s whine of protest.

“May I?”

“Huh? -wha?”

Slowly, like approaching some unknown animal Akashi reached out his hand and put it flush against Takao’s lower abs. 

“May I move my hand higher?” 

That was a little... out of scope, wasn’t it? Just some nice, manly, helping-a-fellow-out blowjobs, that was the original deal, right? But, uhhhn, fuck it. Akashi was using his own tricks against him - his wet breath on the tip of him, tongue flicking out as he said the words.

“Ummm. Yeah. Yeah, OK. You can touch me if you want.”

Akashi’s hand moved higher. His other hand swept up Takao’s thigh and across his hip. Damn - look ma, no hands! Akashi had to have monster core strength to keep his mouth in position without worrying about losing his balance. He was also, weirdly enough, very careful as his palms ran up Takao’s sides to cup his pecs, as his fingertips tentatively circled and brushed over his nipples. 

Which pebbled up eagerly. _Traitors_.

Akashi kept stroking them, feather-light. Pressing delicately against the nubs in some fiendish unpredictable pattern as Takao thrashed and swore. Seemingly satisfied with his torture-progress, Akashi’s left hand took a detour to his arm - running approvingly over the shape of his biceps. 

“These are quite nice, actually. They’re well-maintained. You must be diligent with your reps.” 

Oh God, with all his intensity Akashi was honestly a little awkward wasn’t he?

“Ahhh-, mmm, thanks.” Takao murmured in a haze. He could feel his dick twitch a little where it was tucked against Akashi’s cheek. Hey, who didn’t like praise?

Akashi seemed to be having a harder time of it now that his hands weren’t there to brace him, he was breathing heavier through his nose, brow furrowing in concentration. It would have been a classical strategizing-your-doom!Akashi expression except for the whole ‘face full of dick.’ 

Well he’d done it to himself, trying to get too fancy on the first go. Still, Takao’s sense of team play picked the strangest time ever to assert itself.

“Here, I can-”

He put his hands carefully on either side of Akashi’s head, holding him steady. Akashi made only the minutest of acknowledgment-noises, but he sure breathed easier, the proud bastard.

Now they were locked together, moving together in little shifts like a weird interdependent system. Takao’s hips making the shallowest upward pushes, Akashi meeting him half way, deeper and deeper in little increments, one of his hands stroking almost gratefully across his stomach as Takao wiped a drop of sweat that was about to fall into his eye with his thumb.

Takao had been bracing himself for ‘thorough and merciless’ and this was that, in a way. But in another way it was a complete surprise.

_There’s a little room for hope, right? Like, for humanity? In general? If two guys who were recently enemies can touch each other as carefully as this._

It was pretty feeble of him, but that sentimental line of thinking, Akashi’s still-reddened cheeks, his careful, measured licks, all of these had Takao back at the edge again so soon, so desperately that he was sure he’d never live it down.

And that’s when Akashi pulled out the coup de grace.

He’d been working his way up to it, helped along by careful upward thrusts and his own totally typical lack of restraint when he finally went for it - he went down to his limit and then _just kept going_. Takao felt his lips touch the base of his dick, felt himself entering his throat. Akashi gave a triumphant hum of satisfaction and Takao was _gone_.

_The Emperor Has No Gag Reflex_. He thought wildly, and the trailing end of his drawn-out groan turned into a laugh. 

Takao fell back against the couch. He was limp and shivering. He barely had the strength to raise his right hand and arrange the fingers in a quavery, unmistakeable ‘thumbs up.’

It was too easy for Akashi to primly lean back on his heels spit the contents of his mouth into a handkerchief and then to stand up and flip Takao over. With his legs nerveless and splayed Takao didn’t need the Hawk Eye to see the angle he was currently best presenting. 

“Listen, I know it’s hella tempting-” he slurred “-but if you look closely at my asshole you’ll see a bunch of tiny letters that say ‘Reserved for Shin-chan’s use ONLY.’”

“Oh no, I wouldn’t dream of encroaching. I was thinking frottage. It’s a bit pedestrian but it should efficiently serve both our needs.” 

How the hell could Akashi still do that not-quite-keigo speaks-like-a-dictionary shit? _Cripes._ At least you had to give points out for consistency. Anyway the big picture thing seemed to be that fondling his biceps and awkwardly blowing him had made His Highness all hard again. 

This put Takao in a pretty generous mood. 

Ha! Damn right! Seeing him totally give it up had to be quite the thing, huh?! Takao Kazunari - Debauched and Languid Seducer of Men, had clearly just been born. May his legend reign forever.

“‘Kay, whatever, go for it.“

Embarrassing as it was(pffff, literally), his thighs were plenty sweaty already, peeling off the leather of the couch with an obscene sound. And then his ass was up and out and everything kind of, swung freein a shameful but liberating way. 

Akashi dug his perfect manicured fingers into the slight grooves over his hipbones( whyyyy, why was that so fucking hot?) and folded him a little more forward into the ideal position.

“Again, may I?”

“Help yourself” he shot cheekily over his shoulder, letting a bit of tongue peek out of the corner of his mouth.

“Oh I intend to.”

Akashi’s wet dick slid between his thighs, his fingers tightened on his hips. The couch creaked with the first thrust and kept creaking. Takao was still over-sensitive so every time Akashi’s revived boner nudged against his freshly-emptied balls his vision swam in front of him, but in the best way.

And what a vision they made, the two of them on the couch slotted together like that. Even in the first-person perspective it was pretty damn compelling - crushed down with another guy’s weight on you, hearing him pant helplessly against your neck.

_I might bottom for Shin-chan sooner after all_ Takao thought, and had to stuff his fist into his mouth before he did anything _really_ embarrassing - like breathily moan out the wrong name.

Unfortunately, the guy he’d agreed to buddy-fuck could sometimes literally read minds.

“Are you thinking of Shintarou?”

“ _Y-yeah._ ”

“No wonder. You’ve become even more yielding.“

That hot mouth moved up his shoulder, up against his ear and huskily whispered “We approve.” 

“Ah! Ahhnnnn~~ _fuck_!” 

Akashi, the absolute bastard, put his lips to his ear again. Takao may have screamed a little. In the manliest way. His ears were a well-known and painstakingly-hidden weak spot. That’s why he kept the front bits of his hair a little long.

Those cool, modern bangs were now liability #1 as Akashi unceremoniously wound his fingers through them to hold Takao’s head steady against the leather arm of the couch as he began a full-scale assault of Takao’s left ear. 

His cool lips teasted the rim. His hot tongue pressed wetly into the inner fold - tasting, considering, and once it had made a map of the territory it thrust ruthlessly inside just as his hand crept down from Takao’s hip and wrapped around Takao’s mysteriously back-in-action cock like it belonged there. 

Takao pretty much came like a dropped firehose after that.

\- - -

They went to shower together. Akashi insisted on washing his back since Takao had actually ended up with come between his thighs _and_ across his ass this time and some of it had then sort of drippeddown. Pffff, so much for the Emperor’s absolute control. 

He was going to totally ignore the part where he had to wash his own spunk out of his bellybutton.

It was way too intimate and super weird, But at that point Takao was still floating in the clouds somewhere from getting two orgasms so close together, so he mostly remembered the sensation of the cold tile against his overheated cheek and the hedonistic double-knockout combo of the warm water and the soft-soapy sponge moving from his ass to the backs of his thighs. Yeah that really worked for him, no denying it. Just now he totally and completely understood why ‘Soapland’ was a thing.

“Seriously though, man. The ears?” he muttered as soon as his voice worked again.

“It was effective.” Akashi blinked at him innocently with his great big ruby cat eyes. Takao was 95% sure he was having him on.

They didn’t kiss, kissing was _definitely_ off the table, but the way their wet cheeks rubbed together as Akashi reached across to adjust the tap was plenty cosy and Takao sort of wondered who the heck they were fooling. Now he knew what Akashi’s wet hair smelled like for chrissake, that it formed minute, perfect cowlicks in the steam, like a pool of spilled blood. That was somehow more intimate than the his-dick’s-been-in-my-mouth thing. 

Though, on second thought it was cute how Akashi was clearly saving his first kiss for his own mystery-boy. 

“Fine, fine. Turn around, I’ll do yours too.”

After letting Takao wash his back, with his weirdly prominent shoulder blades (listen Mr. Emperor, with your doubtlessly-horrific workout regimen you really need to eat more) Akashi let him pin one arm to the wall with a look that clearly said “I am being incredibly generous and humoring your idiocy.” And Takao must have had some masochistic switch flipped in his brain from too much Shin-chan because he ahem _responded_ way too well to those kinds of looks.

Akashi really was smaller than him without all their clothes on. Not by much - just a little bit all the way around, but seeing it made Takao too damn pleased for his own good. It was harder to take the distant-yet-theoretically-possible threat of death and dismemberment-by-scissors seriously when your scary rival PG’s skin was all scrubbed and pink and his elegant little toes were pruning up on the shower tiles.

Soooo long story short he may have stuck his tongue in Akashi’s ear in retaliation. And then licked down his throat. And then sucked on his nipples. (They were _little_ and _pink_ \- no court would convict him)

They may have ended up rubbing off again against the shower wall. Wet, soapy skin on wet soapy skin - heavenly. Akashi’s curious hands back on his biceps. Him copping a thorough feel of Akashi’s pert ass. Hey, practice round! This was all a practice round. 

Technically several. At this point.

Ten to fifteen minutes later they were in the locker room toweling their hair dry, an eerily comfortable three feet apart. Like they went to the same school or something. Like they were friends. 

_Help,_ Takao thought. _I’ve fallen into a really sexy, super-bizarre alternate dimension and I can’t get up._

But this was Akashi’s old kingdom, wasn’t it? His home turf. It might explain why he seemed the most relaxed that Takao had ever seen him. It was like he’d left his invisible cape and crown at home for once. If you squinted you could almost mistake him for any high schooler who had finished fooling around. 

But Takao’s Eyes were too good to fall for that. 

Even now, Akashi was still otherworldly. The way all the Miracles were, up close. In middle school Takao had spent so much time convincing himself that ‘that Midorima’ was just a better-than-average guy who he could beat. But when he'd seen Shin-chan up close for the first time he couldn't deny the stamp of greatness on him. Couldn't deny the realization that Takao was going to have to level up like whoa if he wanted to stand beside him.

_Well._

Takao sure felt like he’d leveled up just now. Watch out, Shin-chan! He who had put his dick in the lion’s mouth and survived could no longer be nervous about anything else under the sun~

Man, thought. What would it have been like if he had gone to this school? Seeing little Shin-chan in this locker room everyday... Awww, crap he could overload his brain just thinking about it. It was extra-bad because he’d bribed Kuroko at some point so he’d seen _pictures_ from their first year and Shin-chan had been soooo freaking cute. _The cutest._

Maybe they would have been friends then. Takao had no illusions about being a Teiko starter but he could have made the first string! They could have had practice at the same time. 

But no, let’s all take a sharp left back to reality - if he had gone to this school it would have probably messed him up the way it had basically messed up every single member of the legendary Teiko lineup. Hard pass on that.

“Is this, like, nostalgic for you? Being here again?” He asked, because he couldn't help himself, and because he didn't want to give the silence a chance to get awkward.

“Yes, very.” Akashi said quietly. At some point something they must have done must have put a crack in his social mask too, because his expression was wistful. Wistful, with a pinch of sad.

Then he seemed to pull himself together.

“Thank you, Kazunari. It’s been a rather _enlightening_ evening.”

“Hey, sure thing. We got a little carried away huh, but you won’t catch me complaining!” In a daring repeat of his previous feat, he reached out and carefully poked Akashi in the shoulder. “He reads all your texts you know. Even when he’s in class. Shin-chan I mean. I was pretty jealous honestly. But no- err, the point is: I’m pretty sure he forgives you.”

“That is… good to hear. Naturally I don’t believe in such things, but at this point it would be socially appropriate to wish you luck.” 

“Hey, you too.” Takao even meant it. Especially now that he knew for sure Akashi wasn’t going after Shin-chan himself.

Though for cosmic fairness’ sake he immediately also thought: and good luck to whatever poor bastard you’re after, hope he likes it rough. Still, things being what they were, he was pretty sure Akashi would end up as the winner of his chase. Takao mentally lit some incense. _Goodspeed, mystery boy, I’m pretty sure you’re fucked._

But hey, that might not turn out too badly. ;)

It seemed a little un-gentlemanly to just leave him in the locker room and peace out, so he walked Akashi out to the school gate and watched him get into the big black car that must have been idling there the whole two hours they were busy. 

_Bwahaha sorry I made you wait, poor Driver-san, I was too busy giving the Young Master the experience he wanted!_

Cheekily he waved ‘bye bye’ after the car revved up and kept waving until it went around the corner and out of sight.

The night was crisp and clear. The fading “Teiko Middle School” sign was just where he’d left it, even though it felt like the universe had tilted around it into some new configuration that even his hardworking imagination would have NEVER EVER considered, just a couple of hours ago.

Turning back, Takao ran his hand through his still-damp hair and ambled down the block to his bus stop, grinning a slow self-satisfied grin, whistling all the way.

= = =

EPILOG:

That morning Midorima Shintarou noticed that there was something different about Takao: some aura, some mysterious extra curl in the shape of his mouth. Like the other boy had woken up privy to a terribly amusing secret. 

Or perhaps it was also the fact that Takao was wearing clear orange-flavored lip gloss, as was his deplorably cosmopolitan habit. Really, it was only a technicality away from being _lipstick_ and it made his lips eerily full-looking and shiny after their brush with the morning wind as he was pedaling the rickshaw to school.

That damnable wind seemed to follow them indoors, brushing his own hair into his face and teasing at Takao’s ridiculous modern bangs until Midorima had this absurd urge to reach out and touch them, not knowing whether he wanted to smooth them down or dishevel them further. Midorima then recognized the phrasing of his thoughts as something he had once read in a battered romance novel he’d found behind the family washer-dryer set and immediately regretted it. He also regretted the sympathetic nervous system’s function in making humans blush. He regretted a lot of things.

A fresh gust from an open window accosted them in the hallway, scattering class notes amid girlish shrieks and moulding the normally loose gakuran jacket to Takao’s chest and arms, the fabric yielding to the outline of his biceps. Which were frankly impressive, not that Midorima had noticed their development in the months since they had met or anything! No... it was hopeless. He could no longer deny the state of things.

Perhaps his recent conversation with one Kuroko Tetsuya (he of the recent scandalous co-habitating with the American returnee _boyfriend_ ) was more pertinent than he’d thought. 

It was becoming more obvious that the qualities of his one-time rival and self-declared best friend which _he_ had been privileged to observe due to their proximity: Takao’s effervescent nature and pert nose and the faint freckling of the back of his neck. His tireless spirit, the aesthetically pleasing curves of muscle in his shoulders and thighs. _Ahem_. The qualities which _he, Midorima Shintarou_ himself had come to value disproportionately, were also regrettably on display to the rest of the world. 

For a ‘Shadow’ that fool was being troublesome and shining too brightly.

Yes. It was time to escalate his plans. It was time to…goodness, he could barely think it in the privacy of his own brain. But he must! A man ought to name his goal clearly to obtain it!

Fate favored the prepared. He had his Lucky Item. For weeks how he had A Plan. Tonight they were staying late after practice, just the two of them alone in the gym. He could ask for no better opening. 

And it was clearly high time to make Takao Kazunari _his_ at last.

~


End file.
